Tavian's Empty Return
The moment Tavian walked away from Oriana, something inside him shattered. Each step back toward the Lockridge estate felt heavier than the last. The salty wind burned his eyes, but not nearly as much as the memory of Oriana on her knees crying his name, a sound that echoed in his skull long after he left the beach behind.
He did not sleep that night. Nor the night after. Nor the one after that.
When Tavian arrived home, the gates of the estate closed behind him with a hollow clang that echoed like the sealing of fate. His father, Leonard, lay weak in his study, attended by doctors and servants who whispered behind their hands. Theresa watched Tavian like a hawk, her eyes filled with silent warning and perhaps relief that the "inconvenient girl from the beach" was no longer in their son's life.
Vionna lingered in every hallway, her perfume thick and suffocating, her smiles sharper than broken glass.
"Welcome home, Tavian," she said sweetly the first time he walked past her, her voice smooth as poison. "I'm glad you've finally come to your senses."
Tavian didn't respond. He couldn't. His heart had been left on the sand with Oriana's tears soaking into it.
Vionna tilted her head. "Oh don't be sad. Time heals everything."
But Tavian didn't want time. He wanted Oriana.
That night, he locked himself in his room, ignoring the persistent knocking of servants and the soft calls from his mother. He sat by the window, staring at the sea far in the distance, the same sea where he had left the only person who had ever seen him for who he truly was.
Days passed. Then a week. Then another.
Tavian's family threw obligations at him like chain meetings, dinners, appearances, discussions about business and legacy. His father Leonard summoned him one morning, voice frail but commanding. "Son, you must focus. There is no room for distractions. Not now. Not ever."
Tavian swallowed. "Yes, Father."
"Good." The old man closed his eyes. "You must think about your future. About the Lockridge name. About Vionna."
The name made Tavian's chest tighten painfully.
"She has always been suitable," the elder continued. "Her family supports us. Her father is investing in the new project. Do not throw away what we have built for a girl who"
"Father." Tavian's voice cracked. "Please. Don't say her name. I can't."
Leonard opened his eyes, hardening. "Then you understand why she had to go."
Tavian looked away, jaw clenched. He understood nothing. Nothing except that he had sacrificed the one thing that ever made him feel alive.
Tavian tried to bury himself in work. He tried to pretend. He tried to move forward. But every time he lifted a pen, he saw Oriana's trembling hands gripping his shirt. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her falling to her knees, begging him not to leave. Every time the waves crashed in the distance, he wondered if she still went to the shore hoping he might return. He wondered if she hated him now. He wondered if she still loved him despite everything.
But his guilt was heavier than his hope.
Some days he walked out to the cliffs above the sea, staring at the horizon until the sun dipped below it, whispering her name to the wind, hoping somehow it might reach her.
"Oriana."
The name broke him every time.
Vionna thrived in his suffering. She began appearing everywhere he went to the dining hall, the garden, the study.
One evening, she approached him as he sat alone, staring blankly at a book he had not turned a page of in hours.
"You know," she said gently, "you don't have to be sad forever."
Tavian didn't move. "Go away."
Vionna smiled, unbothered. "You made the right choice. That girl doesn't belong here. She never did."
His fist clenched violently.
Vionna leaned closer. "People like us move in a different world. She would have been crushed. You spared her the pain."
Tavian looked up sharply, eyes burning with fury and heartbreak. "I didn't spare her pain. I caused it."
Vionna's smile didn't falter. "Well, that's life, isn't it? Some people rise. Some people stay where they came from."
He stood abruptly, knocking over the chair. "Enough!"
Vionna took a slow step back, her eyes narrowing, her smile finally fading. But she said the words anyway.
"You'll forget her eventually."
Tavian's voice dropped to a broken whisper as he stared past her, as if speaking to someone only he could see. "I will never forget her."
Late at night, when the estate was asleep, Tavian would sneak to the stables, saddling his horse without a sound, riding to the cliff overlooking the ocean. There, he let the wind lash his face, let the cold settle into his bones.
Sometimes he screamed her name into the darkness. Sometimes he fell to his knees, unable to breathe under the weight of regret. Sometimes he stared at the water until dawn, imagining her face in every wave.
He had left Oriana. But he could not leave his love for her. It clung to him like a ghost, beautiful, fragile, and unforgettable.
And in the quiet moments between breaths, when no one could hear him, Tavian confessed the truth out loud.
"I made the biggest mistake of my life."